Bearer of Bad News
by karebear
Summary: Katniss is sleeping because they're keeping her sedated, and Gale hasn't slept for days. Not since the bombing.


Katniss is sleeping because they're keeping her sedated, and Gale hasn't slept for days. Not since the bombing. His eyes are gritty and bloodshot but every time he closes them he sees nothing but fire, hears nothing but screams.

"She's gonna need you," Haymitch says. The two of them are watching Katniss through the one-way glass and the hovercraft isn't large, so they're basically pushed up against one another. Gale closes his eyes, just for two seconds, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyelids, rubbing away the images that are already starting to form.

Haymitch tilts a flask up to his mouth and takes a long pull.

"Does that actually help?" Gale asks. He's so desperate right now that he's willing to try just about anything.

But Haymitch just shakes his head. "No. Not really."

Gale nods. Figures.

He looks down at the palms of his hands, at the burn scars left in diamond-shaped patterns, imprints from the white-hot fence he'd torn down to get the survivors to safety. More scars. Proof of the Capitol's brutality written on his skin, he can't get away from it. He curls his hands into fists, and then rests one fist against the glass.

He rests his forehead just above that fist. His breath fogs up the glass.

"It would have been so much worse without you," Haymitch points out. "People needed someone to follow, and you stepped up. There are almost a thousand people alive who might not have been if you weren't there."

Gale would've done well in the arena. He keeps his head in a crisis. And he knows how to keep himself alive. It's the moments of selflessness that surprise Haymitch. He goes up against the Capitol without thinking, to protect other people, and he does it fearlessly. They're gonna need the Mockingjay, but they might need him just as much.

He hasn't slept since the bombing.

Almost a thousand people, Gale thinks. "That's less than one in ten."

Haymitch shrugs. They're both capable of doing the math and no matter how much he tries to drown the reality of what's just happened, it isn't going to change.

They did what they could. They did more than anyone could've expected.

"She'll listen to you," Haymitch says, nodding toward the glass. It's certain that Katniss won't listen to him, not after what happened to Peeta. He wanted to get the boy out too, he would have if he could, but that was never the plan. He made promises that he never intended to keep. Can anyone really pretend to be surprised by that?

Gale nods. He knows they think the news will go down easier coming from him than from some District 13 stranger. He'd volunteered to do this, but if he's honest he'd only done so because it was the fastest way to get to see Katniss again.

"When do you think she'll wake up?"

"Not long now. Couple of hours, maybe. Maybe less. You could catch a nap. I'll let you know."

Gale shakes his head. He can't sleep. He can't even close his eyes.

"Suit yourself," Haymitch replies. He takes another swig of white liquor. It burns going down but he barely notices anymore.

Gale sits down on the edge of the jump seat just inside the hovercraft's sealed landing ramp. He watches Haymitch watching Katniss. A couple of hours. That's a long time to sit here feeling useless, but if he's honest with himself, he isn't eager for Katniss to wake up. He'd let her sleep forever if he could.

 _He_ would sleep forever, if he could.

He stays awake. He has nothing to keep his hands busy, and the recycled air within the hovercraft annoys him. It doesn't smell like anything. He can't tell how much time is passing. He stares at nothing, at a random point on the metallic wall.

Every now and then he glances at Haymitch, who leans against the glass.

Gale gets to his feet as soon as Haymitch meets his eyes. The man hasn't looked at him in hours, so it's all the signal he needs to understand his cue. Haymitch presses his hand to the palm pad that opens the door into the room where Katniss is restrained on a hospital bed.

Gale rubs his eyes, one more time, and he takes a deep breath. Then, he crosses the threshold.

Katniss frowns at him, still looking dazed. Gale knows the sedatives they'd given her were powerful. He sits down at the foot of her bed, takes her hand.

"Gale," she whispers, and the shadow of a smile crosses her face.

"Hey, Catnip." His voice cracks a little.

She catches it, of course she does. "What's wrong?"

He shakes his head. He's been rehearsing this for hours, for days, but he still doesn't know what he's supposed to say. He is haunted by fire and screams, and a death toll of more than 9 out of every 10 people they knew. Nothing is left.

"Gale?"

He closes his eyes because if he opens them she'll see how close he is to losing it, and it doesn't matter that he sees the flames flickering inside his eyelids. He jerks, just barely catching himself before he claps his hands over his ears to ward off the roar of the bombers overhead.

He takes a long breath. He opens his eyes. He can feel Haymitch watching him, on the other side of the glass. Katniss doesn't know he's there. For now, it's better if she doesn't know. One thing at a time.

"Prim's okay," he says. "And your mother. I got them out." Start there. Start small. He hopes he sounds more in control than he feels. He's always looked out for Katniss, kept her safe. He can't stop now.

"Out of _what_?" Her words are slightly slurred from the drugs. Beneath his hand, her fingers tense. She's alert enough.

"Katniss, as soon as you shot at that forcefield, the Capitol sent bombers."

Flames.

Screaming.

White-hot metal against his hand.

Tripping over the dead and the dying.

Pushing Prim ahead of him, screaming for her to run.

The thunder of the planes overhead and the firework bursts of their contents exploding.

More fire.

More screaming.

More death.

He realizes that he is shaking now and he doesn't even bother trying to hide it from Katniss, it's too late anyway.

She takes his chin in her hand and brushes a kiss against his lips, and he can't help it, he starts to laugh, an absolutely unhinged reaction that is completely inappropriate given the situation. She kissed him without thinking because he's a complete mess and that's what she does. He pulls away, and takes in a shocked breath. He holds it until he can't anymore, until he has regained some measure of control.

"Gale," Katniss cries.

He shakes his head. "You only kiss me when something's wrong."

"I only kiss _anybody_ when something's wrong. That isn't your problem. It's mine."

Nobody's told her about Peeta, not yet. That isn't his story to tell.

Gale sighs. He looks down at his hand, his fingers spread over hers.

"Where are we?" Katniss finally asks.

"Hovercraft," he says. He talks to their fingers, to the bed underneath them. It's easier than looking at her. "We're on our way to District 13. Yes, it's a real place," he adds, before she can protest.

"What about District 12? Aren't we going home?"

Fire.

Screaming.

Fewer than one in ten.

There is nothing left there but bones and ashes.

"It would have been so much worse without you," Haymitch said. As if that could make him feel better. As if anything could be _worse._

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Katniss," he chokes out, and his voice sounds flat and dead and he isn't shaking anymore, he doesn't feel _anything_. "There is no District 12."


End file.
